Denying the Devil's Dues
by forginblade
Summary: The North Blue has seen the rise of many a notorious pirate and outlaw: the Surgeon of Death, the Heavenly Demon, the Corrupt King and many more. Unwilling to devote his life to the Sea King hunt, Helgi is desperate to leave his home of Jagt Island, even if it means invoking powers he does not understand. Too bad nobody ever told him, you can't outrun the devil.
1. Chapter 1: If Only

**Chapter 1: If Only**

The history of the world's filled, littered even, with a colorful cast of great men and women whose word and deed and fame had shaken the foundations of the Red Line and the six seas time and time again. It was filled with tragedies that had given rise to the best and the worst of mankind, minkkind, giantkind and so on. As such the tales that are spun from the ruined remains of Ohara or those of the nascent Golden Age of Piracy following Gold Roger's final words and the many criminals and adventure-seekers that would take up the skull-and-bones in his honor would be especially popular to regale to the less…upstanding of audiences.

If only this tale could have started with one of these titans of history at the dawn of a new era. If only it was about the second coming of the pirate king or of the one who would shed the light of truth on the Void Century for all the world to see. Instead…

"You mangy furball, spit out those leeks!" Inside a rocky clearing high in the mountains a boy was facing down an emaciated bear, its maw filled to the brim with a multitude of leeks. Courtesy of said leeks the lanky bear couldn't growl at his leather and fur clad opponent, so instead it made itself look as big as possible as he started, its hind legs digging themselves into the recently upturned soil. The boy's eyes narrowed as he watched the soil, noticeably darker and more vibrant than the rest of the clearing, scatter, the distant rumbling and sounds of battle ignored entirely. The instant it realized that the boy wasn't intimidated in the slightest it charged towards him.

Naturally the boy didn't stay put, continuing to hurl insults at the ursine as he ran away. "Eight months of badgering the merchants, who only dock at the other side of the island, for soil and seeds and tools," despite looking very malnourished the bear was quickly gaining on the boy, dexterously avoiding the jagged rocks as it gave chase.

"Not to mention that six of those months were spent doing their chores and being their whipping boy because I couldn't afford any of that." And the moment he said that the boy turned 180°, running past the bear before it could do anything other than turn its head. Which meant that it had just enough time to see the boy, who was well over eight meters away from it now, jab at the thin air and launch two tiny specks from his knuckles. And just like that it had lost the right half of its vision. Fear and pain clouded its mind and what few leeks weren't snapped in half harmlessly fell to the ground. For a second it looked like it would choke, but after some hacking and wheezing it got back up, its remaining bloodshot eye fixed on the boy.

Like a speeding arrow the bear closed the distance, surprising the boy, who barely managed to get to the edge of the forest surrounding the clearing before it was on top of him. Its claws dug into his shoulders and its jaw clamped down on his neck with a sickening crunch, unleashing a small torrent of blood and bone down the boy's upper body.

A blinding pain shot through the beast's body, the inside of his muzzle and throat torn to shreds. The instant it loosened its now toothless grip on the boy's head an oddly jagged-looking hand pierced its side as one of its hind legs went flying from a well-placed kick. The bear collapsed, showing no resistance as the boy pushed it away and tied a vine to its remaining hind leg. The moment he let go the improvised snare trap went taut, dragging the heavily wounded beast further into the forest.

"It's your own damn fault, you overgrown furbag," the boy looked on at the trail of blood and gore, the bear having disappeared partway into the bushes and trees. "If you were this fast and powerful you could have feasted on fish and dog and what not. But no, you just had to take a swipe at my leeks, wasting the last two months of blood and sweat I poured into growing them." The earth shook again, as if something was tearing through the mountainside and causing minor landslides left and right. Throughout the entirety of the scuffle between the boy and the bear these tremors had been growing more powerful and more frequent, yet the boy paid it no attention.

Instead he was more focused on the pack of dogs that had shown up, no doubt attracted by the smell of blood, and had started tearing in the dying bear. That was the true face of Jagt Island, the dead land where the only way for survival is the strong feasting on the weak, well that and scavenging of course. Which is why it didn't take long for more animals to show up and fighting to break out over the bear's corpse. Ignoring the impromptu battle royale the boy turned around and started picking up the remaining leeks. It was easy to see why he was being ignored by the other wild animals, not vying for the meat in front of them and being powerful enough to massacre all of them if he so desired.

It was because he had been left out of the fighting that he noticed the high-pitched whine before anybody else. He had just enough time to look up and see a trio of white flashes closing in on the clearing and what could only be described as a small green hill following right behind. The first oak-sized pillar eviscerated the dozen or so animals that had still been feuding over the bear's corpse. The second tore into the forest, splintering twisted wood and hapless predator alike whereas the third buried itself in what remained of the boy's vegetable garden. Not waiting for the verdant head, that he had mistaken for a hill just before, to crush him alongside the rest of the clearing the boy jumped, racing across the decapitated head's side. It crashed down before he could reach the top, the impact launching him off of it and crushing anything that had remained standing after the initial assault. Needless to say, nothing was left of the boy's hard work, the leeks having all but evaporated from the impact, other than the two that he had been holding onto.

Blank-faced, the boy could do nothing but look at the complete destruction that the falling body parts had wreaked and how it had erased all of his efforts, not just those of today, but of the last couple of months. Naturally he was angry, feeling the rage and indignity well up deep inside of him even as he saw a handful of dogs, that had been near the edge when the head-like meteorite impacted, limp away. And just like that the boy's welling anger was gone and he absentmindedly started to nibble on one of the leeks. The dust-covered and blood-drenched unripe leek that still had ursine drool dripping off of it.

It tasted surprisingly well.

"The Sea King mating season is early this year." Indeed, the freshly decapitated head that occupied over half of the clearing that he had spent day after day in for the last two months could only belong to an average full-grown Sea King and they never ventured this far north when the Calm Belt was actually living up to its name. There was only one other possible explanation as to why a Sea King head would be flying in this part of the world, but given that none of the possible future Apex Hunters had even left Jagt…

His musings were cut short as the boy finally noticed the faint, yet annoyingly familiar, hyena-like laughter coming from the foot of the mountain, specifically from Gator Trophy Bay.

"So even when you're not trying to you still manage to completely ruin my day, Gunni. If it was somebody else I'd almost be impressed. And with the Sea King hunt done with he'll probably officially become an Apex Hunter before the end of the year. Just my luck." And so, without even glancing back one last time the boy left, still absentmindedly munching on his leeks.

The hunters were bringing their catch to the shore. Time to go back 'home'.

* * *

Mount Raghorn, and those beasts that call it their home, had always been a popular source for all sorts of scary stories that were told in the tribe. And that was without even mentioning how dares made between the youth of the tribe more often than not involved spending the night in its wilderness or bringing back trophies of game hunted on its treacherous slopes.

So, at first glance, the boy must have been quite the fighter, to nonchalantly scale the mountain every day just to tend to some vegetables. As if he would ever bother with something as cumbersome as tracking and fighting every remotely powerful animal on the mountain just to be crowned top dog. Far easier to just lay traps across his usual route, get anything stupid enough to bother him nice and bloodied up, crippling their legs if possible, and then just let the other predators devour them. Choosing between a limping, wounded prey and a hale and healthy one? That was all but the very definition of a no-brainer.

The boy had long since grown accustomed to the sight and sound of the various mountain beasts happily devouring even their packmates if they got caught in his traps. Of course that had more to do with denying rivalling packs and solitary beasts the bounty of one of their own than any form of hatred or contempt that they might have nursed against one another. Yet all he paid attention to were the number of traps that had been sprung today. With a hint of pride the boy noted that the number of triggered traps was less than the day before, which had already been less than the day before that. The sooner the animals learned to avoid him, the better. After all, that meant he would have to spend less time resetting the traps or collecting the material necessary to build new ones. Not like there was much else he could do when the entire island was infested with carnivores.

Far too soon the boy had reached the foot of Mount Raghorn and the time it took to get from there to the quaint little mud hut settlement that was his home was even shorter. In a small field outside of the village he could easily see a group of adult hunters eagerly putting pelts of varying sizes and colors next to each other, the image of a fox tearing into the bleeding corpse of an eagle slowly but surely coming to the foreground. Without canvas or ingredients to make paint from, making these kind of crude tapestries was about the best they could do.

A bit further away a couple of younger kids were comparing their catches, from the small snake that hung limply in the hands of the five year old Geir to the malnourished dog that Leif had strangled barely an hour ago to celebrate his tenth birthday.

A painfully normal sight and far sooner than he would have liked every last one of them was looking up, right at him.

"Hey Helgi, empty-handed again, I see?" One of the tapestry-braiding hunters, Agnar, yelled out at him, ignoring the half-eaten leek that Helgi was still slowly nibbling on.

"Helgi, why didn't you tell us you were going to Raghorn? We could have swiped some of the ones that were caught in your traps before anything else showed up." Nial's whine echoed throughout the clearing, but before he could continue any further Leif's elbow harshly jabbed him in the ribs. The glare Nial sent his twin brother could have set the sea on fire, if such a thing was possible outside of the New World, but after a scant two seconds he backed off to nurse his bruised chest. Not because of anything Leif might have done, but rather it was the death glare that the full-grown Stigr sent his way, who could actually set his victims on fire by simply grabbing them, that made the young boy reconsider.

"I don't know how much longer your father and the tribe's chief will let this go on, Helgi, but the sooner you stop relying on your piddly little 'traps' and actually do a proper hunt, the better. Now go on, Anshelm has witnessed and approved Gunni's ritual hunt and the Sea King that he took down is already being cut up and roasting on the bonfire. You should get some real food in your belly once in a while, none of that mountain grown kelp or whatever you call it." And then Stigr turned his attention back to his and Agnar's start of a tapestry.

Mountain grown kelp, that term still rankled. After all, who wouldn't be when the fruits of months and months of blood, sweat and tears was compared to the feed of the newborn and the inadequate? Seriously, comparing tasteless kelp to the glory of leeks or potatoes or even carrots?

The festivities were already in full swing by the time that Helgi had arrived. Every house that surrounded the dining square had been covered from top to bottom with colorful draperies, the sound of the drums barely audible over the excited chattering and the raucous laughter of the villagers. From the other side Helgi could see a quartet of junior hunters carry large chunks of Sea King meat and jugs filled with its blood, drop them near the Forest hunters and sprint back to the bay, no doubt needing to strip the Sea King's carcass of all its precious meat and blood before it went bad. The forest hunters immediately went to work, mixing various weak poisons with the blood, easily thickening it and giving it some flavor that wasn't iron and salt. They were clearly still prepping the meat and distilling most of the liquid into the village's specialty brew: Sanguine Royal which would probably be traded off when the merchants came around in a couple of months.

The village was packed as if everybody but him were in on some kind of an unannounced festival and had invited the whole island. It wasn't hard to pick out the outsiders from the natives, not when imported cotton was ignored for leather and woolen clothes were as unknown on Jagt Island as sheep and other herbivores were. There were no marines around, at least none that were on active duty, meaning that the newcomers were either merchants or adventurers, as some pirates were wont to call themselves. As long as they behaved themselves they were free to come and go, but for some reason very few of them were willing to take said offer. Nevertheless, Helgi's attention was drawn away to a father and son pair from one of the more northern settlements.

"But it's not fair that only South End gets to hold the Hunter's Ascendant Feast. Even when the next Apex Hunter is from one of the other villages they all start their hunt here. What makes these guys so special?" The boy grumbled, although Helgi suspected that had more to do with them having to leave their village to take part in the feast rather than any form of chauvinism.

The father didn't answer immediately, instead opting to chuckle somewhat nervously and ruffle the child's hair. Luckily for the both of them nobody seemed to have paid the ill-thought comment much attention, although Helgi did notice two of the village's Beast Hunters stop their discussion to look at the father-son pair.

"Well, there are actually quite a few reasons, but the only important one is that there are far less Sea Kings beyond our northern shores and none of them are good enough prey to qualify for the Hunter's Ascendant Feast." Anticipating his son's follow-up question, the man continued.

"The Sea Kings don't like the 'civilized' waters up north, the fish and other possible sources of food are just inadequate to keep anything but the most miniscule of their kind fed. The sea beyond South End is devoid of humans or small prey who rely on streams and tides to survive. Out there they can devour their brethren and grow to their full size and power. And because South End is the only village that borders the Mirror sea it's the only one that regularly has to deal with Sea King attacks during their mating season, meaning they have more Apex Hunters than any other individual village as well as stronger hunters on average. So do behave around them, for me if nothing else, Ahti?" The boy, Ahti, nodded somewhat reluctantly as the duo walked away, their conversation already having turned towards the new topic of baboon kebabs. Helgi couldn't help but smirk a bit at hearing the father's explanation. Not that there were any glaring inaccuracies with what he had said, but sufficed to say that if he were to be scored for it said answer wouldn't have merited more than a seven out of ten.

Jagt Island, to put it mildly, was something of an outlier as far as islands of any of the Blue Seas was concerned. In fact it was considered a rare 'Frontier' island where only two thirds of it resided in the North Blue and the rest of it had the dubious honor of being part of the Calm Belt, the very same nesting spot for the lion's share of the world's Sea King population. The relative availability to Sea King goods made Jagt island (or at least the southern third) very attractive to up and coming merchant princes who weren't afraid to take a risk or two or try their hand at communicating and trading with the few nearby inhabited Calm Belt islands.

And as far as the pirates were concerned Jagt island could be salvation from the terrors of the New World or the Calm Belt or the perfect training spot for those same horrors. And as for those fools who thought it a smart idea to actually launch an attack? Well, if nothing else they provided the veteran hunters with some variety from the day-to-day drudgery.

Would all these outsiders be just as welcome to come and go as they pleased if they weren't willing to trade for building materials that weren't bone or sandstone? Helgi had nothing better to do with his time but to contemplate those hypotheticals that the merchants had talked about the last time he got them properly boozed up. He was pretty much done with his leek after all.

"Hey cub, I hadn't heard anything about you being back from the Raghorn already. You know you break my heart when you keep avoiding me like that; it almost makes me think that you don't want me around. But that can't be right, right, cub of the hill?" In spite of his best efforts Helgi couldn't suppress a flinch as he was subjected to the older man's voice in all of its hyena-like glory. Suppressing a grumble he turned around and saw the feast's 'guest of honor'.

Gunni was tall and lanky, with nary a trace of fat to be found given that he spent more time under water than above it and that was including the eight hours that he spent sleeping. All but a full grown adult at the age of twenty he was already considered to be one of South End's most valuable hunters, so it should come to the surprise of no one that he was all but expected to become one of the youngest to become an Apex Hunter in the history of the island.

"Oh, you know how it is, Gunni, I had to make sure that all the animals on the mountain got their supper before I could leave them for the night." A weak grin was all that Helgi could muster as he already knew that he could not get away from the man of the hour and his 'playful ribbing'.

"I shouldn't have expected anything else from you, Helgi. Granted, there're probably some wolves filling their bellies with that Sea King head that I threw at the mountain, but that was only a one-time thing. Can't have a Hunter's Ascendant Feast without first feeding the mountain, right?" A short, bark-like, laughter escaped from Gunni's lips which was cut short abruptly as the man took a hefty swig from the jug in his hand. Helgi didn't say a word as Gunni continued to chug down his water nor did he react when Gunni spat a large glob of salt back into the now empty jug. Granted, it was a pain to get fresh water when the nearest source was halfway across the island, but it took a special kind of person to willingly gulp down a liter of seawater like it was no big deal.

"Refreshing as always," Gunni mumbled as he wiped his mouth, "Sanguine Royal just can't compare to water from the Mirror sea. It just lacks that bite to it." And he passed the salt-filled jug to one of the Forest Hunters, who wordlessly took it and started rubbing it on one of the many pieces of Sea King meat.

"I'm sure you're curious, Helgi, so want to take a guess? About what there is left for me to accomplish before Chief Egil and the other Apex Hunters accept me as one of their own?" Helgi couldn't contain his own surprise. Everybody knew that the Apex Hunters were more than a little secretive about the exact requirements to be considered one of them, making the solo hunt on an adult Sea King the only commonly known one. And even then no one was even allowed to try that until they have passed at least two other prerequisites. Nevertheless, Helgi could guess.

"So the sky is still out of your reach, Gunni?" The tall brunette's grin widened, both pleased and annoyed at his junior's answer.

"Right in one, Helgi. Seems like your brain is good for more than trapping the mountain and digging up dirt. I already got Anshelm and Gunnar to promise to teach me about the Enlightenment of the Sky and they seem convinced that I'll achieve the required mastery before the end of the year. Who knows, I might even end the legend of the 'unmarred mountain lion'. Wouldn't that be awesome, crushing the greatest Mountain Hunter the island has ever known. Well, Helgi, given how good you are at this, want to take a guess how I would wipe the floor with your father?" Gunni's words quite literally rang through Helgi's head, the younger boy barely able to remain standing from the elder's 'teasing'. Granted, this kind of sucker punching was not only tolerated on Jagt Island, but even encouraged by the more experienced hunters, something about honing one's reflexes and endurance or what not. If nothing else, Helgi's customary migraine would for once be because of one of Gunni's 'howls' as opposed to his general obnoxiousness.

Gunni's incessant blathering of what he would do after his meteoric rise through the ranks was stopped in its tracks when a stone cup appeared before Helgi, an unfamiliar sweet smell stopping both of them in their tracks. Without any hesitation Helgi took the cup and downed it in one gulp. Whatever it was, it was tremendously sticky, the boy feeling as if half of the cup's contents remained in his mouth. Not that he was complaining.

"Are you done now, Gunni? Because if you keep that unwarranted boasting up, I can always get Bjorn here to test your little claim. How about you first get better than him as a Beast Hunter before spouting off crap like defeating him in battle. Now if you're done with Helgi I suggest you buzz off," the new arrival turned away from Gunni, who just looked flabbergasted at the new arrival, "your dad was looking for you actually." Unlike both Gunni and Helgi, the boy was fairly pale, his short and bright blond hair equally as messy as the darker hair of the other two. Despite being older than Helgi by two years he barely reached his junior's chin, yet with the aura he gave off the other two meekly nodded and if Gunni walked away a bit faster than normal, nobody thought to mention it.

"Sorry it took so long for me to find you, Helgi. It's been a while since a crowd this big has shown up." He smiled apologetically.

"It's not your fault, Ari, I didn't even know that Gunni had been selected for the ritual Sea King hunt, let alone that it had already been completed or that the Hunter Ascendant Feast was today. That aside, where did you get that? It's nothing that anybody on the island could make." Helgi shrugged and Ari covered his mouth, only barely concealing his smirk.

"That's what you get for leaving the village every day before dawn to tend to whatever plant has caught your fancy, Anshelm's group had left almost a week ago. And you're right, some newbie merchant was giving cups of the stuff out on the other side of the square, something about a free taste to 'whet the appetite'." Ari put his hand away, his smirk replaced by a relaxed smile that Helgi subconsciously mimicked.

"So you didn't get anything extra for being the son of the village chief? Good, that makes him smarter than the merchants from the last three end-of-season Feasts."

"No matter how many times I tell them that I can't make any trade deals with them in my father's name, they still think that I can be bought over with some cheap food or trinkets. Ah well, if they insist on giving me free stuff, who am I to reject them? That aside, how are things on your end? Those 'leeks' of yours should be close to being ready to harvest, right? Think they'll taste as good as the carrots from last time?" Helgi's face darkened, wiping away Ari's smile as well.

"Unfortunately they're rotting beneath a few tons of Sea King Head. Gunni's aim is as good as ever, even when he's not trying to he still manages to ruin my day. That said though, it was pretty good, I still have enough soil and seeds and manure left to start over." And just like that the mood had flipped once again. If nothing else, nobody could claim that Helgi would mope and give up when things weren't going his way.

"Bummer, oh well I can wait a few more months if it means I can taste the final result. So I'm sure that your dad is still around…" But before Ari could continue Helgi interrupted him.

"Could you tell him I'll talk to him after the feast? I'm going for a walk to straighten out my thoughts. Staying in the village right now wouldn't help, too much meat and blood for that."

Ari sighed exasperatedly, but instead of pushing the matter he simply shrugged and waved his friend goodbye. Waving back Helgi turned around, whistling a tune that one of the sailors had taught him some years back.

If either of them had known of the pain and the misery that would result of this little piece of teenage rebellion, if the events of that day could have been avoided, what course would history have taken instead?

If only.

* * *

Halfway across the island, well within the North Blue part of Jagt Island, Helgi sauntered lazily, kicking up the beach's coarse sand as he absentmindedly massaged his temple.

It would be wrong to think that he hated South End or Jagt Island in general. This was where he was born and, despite the many colorful tales that the merchants and the sailors that brought them to their little corner of the world, it was all he had ever known. He was no slouch when it came to basic hunting and even when it came to the four arts of enlightenment that allowed the hunters to stand on equal footing with the Sea kings and the stronger pirate crews he could honestly call himself a peer to the adult hunters. He got along with most everybody, he even had some friendly acquaintances in a few of the other villages and knew every one of the island's legends and its heroes by heart. Really, the one thing that he could not see eye to eye with the other villagers, was how he simply could not feel satisfied by the sheer monotony of it all. Everything, every last instant of life on Jagt Island revolved around the hunt, around meat. Newborns get to live off of milk and kelp, but as soon as they had mastered the one Forest technique that freed them of their dependence of vegetables and the like it was meat, meat and more meat until they died. Everything was about the hunt, of how the only proper way involved a dozen or more hunters tracking and slaying some giant prey over the course of days, if not weeks.

Helgi paid no attention to the ominous clouds gathering on the horizon.

Of course food is important, but to dedicate every waking moment to it? To let every other pursuit, intellectual or otherwise, fall to the wayside just because raw baboon or dog was good enough to sate their appetite? It was just so exhausting to deal with the other hunters, acting as if his agricultural outings were some form of teenage rebellion. How could they not be fascinated by how cheese is made or of the many other islands out there in the North Blue, each with their own culture and idiosyncrasies. For crying out loud, they had the existence of ships and compasses shoved in their faces every few months, yet not a single one ever wondered how any form of technology or engineering could be useful. No, some shitty rafts and rope is all we'll ever need, actually improving the standard of living is to be left to the inadequate and frail sailors up north. After all, they already have all that time they waste on 'sailing' and 'improving their wealth and standing'.

Maybe if they tried to be at least a little bit more efficient with their time, like sending less hunters out to catch smaller prey or actually use traps at all, maybe they would realize how empty their lives are and actually do something with it.

It was only when Helgi was getting pelted by the rain did he finally notice the thunderclouds that had engulfed the sky. To his side, Helgi was treated to the rare sight of the sea in all of its tumultuous glory, waves crashing onto the beach, chipping away at the dunes and a few even coming dangerously close to engulfing him as well. Helgi just continued to look on in awe at the spectacle, the raw power of nature that was on display right before his eyes.

The raging seas, the heavy rain that blanketed the beach and the sea like a heavy curtain, Helgi was entranced by it all. An unfortunate consequence of living next to the Calm Belt for his entire life.

Helgi was forced out of his admiration of nature as a bolt of lightning descended on the forest a scant few dozen meters behind the teenaged hunter. Helgi's ears started ringing all over again from the blast of thunder that followed and, as soon as the ringing had subsided, he started running. He had no intentions of being the next one to be reduced to flaming charcoal by a random lightning bolt.

It was as if the storm was alive, because as soon as Helgi decided to make a run for it the storm swelled to become something greater and more terrible than the North Blue had seen in quite some time. Helgi had no choice but to keep his eyes shut, the hurricane-like gales tearing massive amounts of wet sand upwards, giving the illusion of a sandstorm coiling beneath a monsoon. Battered by story-high waves and with the very ground beneath him being shaved away by the ferocious wind, it could only be called a minor miracle that the boy was himself not launched up and left to the mercy of Mother Nature. Even so Helgi barely knew up from down at this point, all but forced further and further into the island with each successive hurricane-borne haymaker.

With wet sand covering his eyes and clogging his ears and the salty rain overwhelming his nose and tongue, the only sense Helgi could still rely upon was that of touch. Which is why it should not come to anybody's surprise when even that last vestige of hope failed him as his feet dangled in midair, the ground long gone.

Helgi, son of Bjorn the unmarred mountain lion, fell deeper and deeper as darkness claimed him.

* * *

He loathed the taste of blood. If asked why he could have given many reasons as to why, but there was only one that mattered. Blood was thick enough to choke on it, hot enough to sear his throat and tasted of iron, which was in itself enough of a reason to make him dry heave.

In short, blood tasted of life.

The first thing he became aware of after regaining consciousness was the rather flattened state of his nose and the awful taste in his mouth of blood mixed with mud. Slowly, Helgi started to look around, making sure that nothing was broken or missing before finally standing up.

Without any hesitation he snapped his nose back into place, the fractures having mended themselves in mere seconds. Looking down the boy's attention was instantly drawn to some drops of his blood, leading further and further away from him, until he finally looked up and saw the rain come pouring down from a crevasse in the ceiling. From the looks of things the storm had quieted down, but he must have fallen down quite far, right? Far enough down for something as insignificant as gravity to break his nose, to break through his mountain enlightenment. Needless to say he didn't fancy climbing all the way up a possibly very steep and soaked wall in the middle of a thunderstorm, not unless he wanted his repeat performance to end with something more important broken than a bit of cartilage. In other words, he was stuck here for the time being. With nothing to distract him.

Good thing the cavern he had landed in was as spacious as it was, he could spend hours down here with the dozens of pathways he could explore, more than enough time for the storm to die down.

Two hours had passed before he found anything of interest and even then it was only a corpse, little more than bones and rotten clothes. Really, it was the first interesting thing Helgi had come across since that underground waterfall and he hadn't fancied finding out how deep that one went.

The first thing he noticed was that, whoever the poor blighter had been, he hadn't been from Jagt Island, not when what little remained of his clothes were clearly made out of cotton rather than leather. No obvious wounds either. As for the back…

"Sheesh, one light touch and it's already falling to pieces. You've been here for more than just a year or two, haven't you?" The moment Helgi grabbed the corpse's neck its head crashed onto the floor, but instead of rolling away it just collapsed into itself, just like the rest of its body. Yet it was not the decomposing body parts strewn around that caught his attention. A quick bit of digging later and, where the corpse had been resting before now, Helgi beheld a pristine and almost gleaming chest, barely big enough to hold a few bars of iron. The ground beneath the corpse had been undisturbed, so if it had been ravaged by the passage of time so much, how was this chest that had laid beneath it still so immaculate? Even if the body's condition had deteriorated far faster than normal that still wouldn't explain how the chest looked like it had just been bought from a store.

"Ah well, so it's a mystery chest, it's what's inside of it that's important." And so without any further delay Helgi opened the chest. Despite its looks and despite that there was no lock on it, it still took all of Helgi's might to wrench it open. Yet, the instant that the lid gave a millimeter the chest all but exploded open, flying out of his hands as if it had sprouted wings.

For a full three minutes after the conclusion of his unexpected struggle with the chest Helgi continued to observe the innocent looking container, as if waiting for it to unleash some unspeakable evil. But as the harbinger of the end of times clearly had better things to do Helgi picked the chest up.

His breath became a bit heavier as the smell hit him first. Sweet like no meat could ever hope to be, with maybe a hint of bitterness to it to hint at it still not being quite ripe, inside of the mysterious chest was a piece of fruit. A whole, unspoiled fruit, a pear if he remembered the stories correctly, that had been resting in that chest for who knows how long. How old was that corpse, really? The only possible explanation for their respective conditions would be for the corpse to have been moved to this spot recently, without being damaged in the slightest and without the earth showing any signs of having been broken up.

"But still, a purple fruit that is not a grape or an eggplant?" Absentmindedly Helgi unfolded the neat piece of paper that had been in the chest alongside the unknown fruit. A quick glance became a long stare, only to make room for a pained grimace. Without a doubt Helgi was the most learned person on the island, not counting the insane few who willingly moved in from anywhere else with a functioning society, but all that that meant was that he was the only literate person on the island. And even then only just.

"Let's see, starts with a d and ends with an l and the letter right before the end would be…an i or maybe it's a w." Personally, he blamed it on a lack of practice, but regardless as to why, the fact of the matter was that Helgi could not read the paper.

Still staring at what would undoubtedly consume all of his free time for the foreseeable future, Helgi took a bite. To his own regret, he actually chewed and swallowed that first bite mechanically, the fruit's horrendous taste not even registering as he kept examining the paper.

In fact, it was only by the fourth bite that it really hit him, and by then he had already consumed half the fruit.

The sheer disgust he felt from eating what could only be called processed manure didn't show on his face. An instant later what was left of it was splattered across the cavern floor, already forgotten.

"Of course it would be rotten, what were you thinking Helgi?" Scratching the side of his neck he turned around, back from where he came from. He no longer cared for what mysteries might still linger further into the cave system, not until he was sure that he hadn't gotten some weird, exotic rash from eating the fruit. He just hoped he wouldn't have to puke, he was feeling hungry enough as it is. He wasn't sure what he would do if he had to look at Gunni's smug face whilst eating from his catch, but it wasn't going to be pretty. The thought alone made him clench his fist. Not that anybody could blame him for the anger that he could all but feel coursing through his veins, what with months of work down the shitter, Gunni getting to rub his 'superiority' in his face and the utter shitshow he had found himself in ever since he saw those thunderclouds. But nevertheless, he wasn't so angry that he hadn't noticed a crucial something. Or rather the lack of something.

When he clenched his fist, it had made no sound, least of all that of the crumpling of paper that should have happened. Sure enough, sometime in between throwing the rotten piece of fruit away and him stewing in his own impotent rage it had disappeared. Just what he needed to finish the day with. If it wasn't for the corpse still being strewn around not far from him Helgi would need to seriously consider the possibility that he had imagined all of it. Getting away from this place and clearing his mind was probably the best course of action he could take. The sound of thunder had stopped echoing from the jagged hallway from which he had entered the cavern.

If he was lucky the storm should have passed by now.

* * *

The storm had indeed died down to Helgi's relief. And while it had been a pain to scale the drenched cliff walls above the cave entrance, it was still preferable to being at the nonexistent mercies of certain forces of nature.

It had definitely been an odd experience, crossing the invisible border between the North Blue and the Calm Belt, the storm itself seemingly afraid to move into the unnaturally serene climate. However, all thoughts of frightened weather phenomena were banished as Helgi was once more greeted with the sight of the village of South End, barely illuminated by the setting sun. Even so it was still child's play for Helgi to see that all but a few of the festivalgoers had already left. Given how erratic the timing of a Hunter's Ascendant Feast could be it would usually take place over a period of three days to a full week, depending on the size of the Sea King and the popularity of the candidate Apex Hunter, so naturally only the hardcore would show up for the first day. The real crowd would be coming at dawn.

Of course, luckily for Helgi, that meant that Gunni would already have retired for the night, given that he would not have a single moment to himself starting tomorrow. And yet, the coming days of freedom couldn't cheer Helgi up, not with how his stomach was all but revolting, its acid battering the boy's oesophageus into submission. That, combined with the infuriating itch that seemed to pop up across his body, really did a number on his appetite.

Already he was regretting eating that piece of fruit and he hadn't even…

"Did you really ditch the whole village, Helgi? Agnar said he saw you walking further inland near the beginning of the Hunter's Ascendant Feast. Did you spot a beast, or was there a friend of yours from another village? Were you meeting your girlfriend, Helgi? Helgi, don't ignore me, Helgi." As distracted as Helgi was it must have been easy for Nial to sneak up on him, if the young boy even intended to surprise the elder one. Helgi knew that Nial was still talking, unmindful or uncaring that he hadn't said a single word in response. It was actually quite the mystery how Nial could ignore the acidic stench of puke that clogged Helgi's nose nor how he didn't react to his trembling hands. At some point Leif had joined his brother as well, the two of them looking somewhat dismissive at said hands. The both of them were saying…something, but all that Helgi could hear was that they were being louder than before and that the pitch of their voices had grown higher as well.

Not unlike a zombie Helgi stumbled his way into South End proper, the two preteens still hovering around him, still assaulting his brain with their yammering. A painful throbbing enveloped his forearms and his neck and hamstrings. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but right now all he wanted was to lie down and be left alone. Leif easily dodged his clumsy and half-hearted swing, the boy now looking genuinely angry.

His sight was getting blurry, the angry yelling of the children little more than some background droning. Why wouldn't they leave him alone? He felt like he was going to puke, like there was a wolf pack's worth of claws and fangs tearing and ripping him apart from the inside out.

One of the children, blurs more than anything now, reached out, holding him, sinking deeper and deeper.

The wind picked up, dust and stone and walls hurled at him, sinking away all the same, keeping the fangs at bay. The blurs disappeared in the vortex of dust and rubble that raged around him.

Like a terrible burden had been lifted from his shoulders, Helgi slumped down on the ground trying to get his ragged breathing under control. He felt fuller and fuller with each passing second, every speck of power leaving his limbs as he laid down. Screams grew and died off but he was too exhausted to pay it much mind.

His neck itched. It itched so much that, if he had had the energy for it, he would have clawed at it till he bled if it meant it would relieve him from it.

Except he didn't have that luxury. The gnawing may have subsided, but that didn't mean that the exhaustion had disappeared alongside it.

And yet the pain prevented him from getting his well-deserved rest. There was a python burying itself in his neck, squirming down his throat to feast on his intestines and he was tired. Almost exhausted enough to ignore being eaten out from the inside.

Almost.

With strength he didn't know he still had in reserve Helgi grabbed the python, ready to tear it apart with his bare hands as he somehow managed to turn and get back on his feet, or at least one of them.

For whatever reason, despite the delirium that bordered on an outright coma dominating his brains all Helgi could pay attention to were the short hairs of the 'python' he was holding. How it was oddly bulbous and a healthy pink and connected by the shoulder to a torso.

He should not have been able to see him. His blurry eyesight, the dust cloud that seemingly enveloped the whole world, his other senses on the verge of giving out from sheer overload, there were a dozen different things that should have prevented him from seeing it.

Ari's face, pale with bloodshot eyes, desperately clawing away to be away from that which was devouring his arm. Ari was desperate, he feared him.

He was fearful of him.

And so, instinctually, Helgi hurled.

Rock, bone and flesh, all of it was expelled from him, every bit of it feeling like he was tearing himself apart like some kind of auto-cannibal.

As the dust settled the haggardness returned with a vengeance, the previously dull throbbing of his muscles having made place for the far more memorable white-hot lances of agony that had no issues with stabbing him everywhere. Literally everywhere.

Even as he saw the devastation before, the destruction that he was responsible for and the mangled bodies he could feel it well up in him once more. Even as Ari, who was clutching at the bloody stump of his arm, limped away from him as fast as he could, all the loose bits and pieces strewn around came racing back.

He was weak. Even knowing how much pain and misery he would cause, if it meant that he could stave off the pain he would gladly take it all back in. Just enough for it, whatever it was, to be satiated.

The bone pillars and the walls came flying, the dust cloud picked again and even the various dismembered bodyparts rose from the ground, all heading towards him once more.

Tearful, desperate and with no small amount of self-loathing Helgi looked at the oncoming torrent, all but welcoming it.

That was, until a hand grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pushed him down. The aforementioned torrent splattered mere centimeters in front of Helgi, almost as if an invisible wall stood between him and his salvation.

He sank. Deeper and deeper, the paper in his free hand returning back from whence it came.

He knew the hand that held him down, that all but forced him in this makeshift burial. Sinking deeper and deeper, as his mind finally gave in to the sweet temptation of restful oblivion, Helgi couldn't help but give off one small, final chuckle.

The bear had gotten to him after all.

* * *

When he regained his consciousness night had already fallen. The boy couldn't care less about the rope that had been tied around his ankles and wrists. No, his attention was focused squarely on the man seated almost a dozen meters ahead of him, flanked by what seemed to be every adult hunter of South End: Egil, the village chief.

"So, Helgi, you've left something of a mess here in the village square, haven't you?" Despite his joking tone, Egil's eyes might as well have been carved out of stone for all the compassion it reflected.

Before he could answer, Egil continued. "Two of our children ravaged and reduced to mere lumps of ground meat. The mangled bodyparts of eight of our visitors, three of whom weren't even from the island, strewn around, not even fit for a burial now. Four hunters injured in ways that will take days, if not weeks to recover from, half a dozen buildings completely wrecked! And I haven't even begun about the massive sinkhole you so graciously reduced half of the square to. What do you have to say for yourself? How did you even manage to do this, trapmaker Helgi?"

Even as the chief's voice grew louder and louder throughout his not-tirade, the hand that held Helgi's neck like a vice ranked a little bit higher on the teen's list of priorities than the stony-eyed village chief. His grip was tight, but Helgi knew, just like the entire village knew, that regardless of what he said or what would happen, the owner of the vice-like hand would never hurt him, deliberately or otherwise. It was a good thing that he wasn't holding him by the throat.

And so, without any further prompting, Helgi told his story. For a moment, he imagined that he was August, the sailor, who could spin an epic tale worth five rounds at the bar from something as minor as an afternoon storm at sea. Yeah, even if he knew nothing August would still have been able to lighten the mood and get everyone on his side. Too bad he didn't have that same talent. After all, it was too short a story.

Nobody had interrupted him even once whilst he told them what had happened and even once he was done, nothing but silence filled the village. The other hunters did nothing but cast furtive glances at one another, none of them willing to speak up and thus disrespect their chief. Eventually one of them, Jorma, quietly got next to Egil and whispered something in his ear. A narrowing of the eyes was the only response Jorma got before he got all but shooed away by Egil. Whatever he had whispered to the village chief, it was nothing he didn't already know.

"Regardless of how you came to possess this power or curse, your lack of control is itself already a clear indication that it is not a technique belonging to any of the five sage styles, least of all that of the sky. Unless of course you intentionally killed your fellow villagers and caused all this damage and are now playing stupid." The dismissive hand gesture that accompanied that statement showed how much belief Egil attached to that explanation.

"Rather, what you did reminded me more of what some of the pirates and adventurers who would clash with our hunters could do. Hey Gunnar, remember that teeth-spawning pirate back from when we were greenhorns ourselves?" The Apex Hunter nodded, his eyes reflecting none of the mirth of his smile.

"Other than the giant hole, the devastation he left in his wake was remarkably similar to Helgi's display. I can see how you would be reminded of him, Village Chief Egil."

"Exactly what I was thinking, Gunnar. We've had our fair share of brash, foolhardy young men and women with more balls than brains. And not all of them were amazing swordsmen or hawk-eyed sharpshooters. Now I've never cared how those punks got their abilities, so whether they all got them by finding their own mysterious holes in the ground with odd corpses and fresh fruit or got flung around by freak typhoons, it's all the same to me." Egil rose and calmly started to walk towards the still kneeling boy.

"You were unfortunately unconscious whilst the debate was still ongoing, but there were some amongst us who felt like your new abilities could be a boon to us. That the acquisition of your strange new talent would outweigh the losses we've already suffered. Those of blood, of infrastructure, of reputation and all in the hope that you might be the equal of an Apex Hunter in a few short years. Ari, step up, would you? I don't want to beat around the bush any longer than necessary." Egil didn't feel the need to explain why it would have been necessary to do any beating, around bushes or otherwise, but soon enough Ari appeared from the crowd.

Helgi couldn't believe how much his friend had changed in the past few hours. He almost hadn't recognized him, what with his entire face being coated in dried up mud and blood and who knows what else. But even aside from that, his hunched over posture, his sole remaining hand clutching the stump of his other arm, it really was as if some scared little animal had taken the place of the confident young man he had known his entire life.

"Ari, I'll start with you. As you are aware, South End has no choice but to be the home of the greatest hunters of Jagt Island, being the only settlement that can deal with the chaos that comes with the Sea King mating season. Even when we are objectively stronger and more experienced in all forms of hunting and combat than our peers our casualty rates are higher than that of the other villages, meaning that the terrors we face on a day-to-day basis are just that much greater than we can ever hope to be. As such we have to be at our best at all times, because even one weak hunter could cause a whole hunting party to perish if they fail to complete their task. Ari, it's certainly possible to become a splendid hunter and a great warrior with only a single arm, but for the prey that we hunt you will fall short. To be honest, your disability forms too great a risk for me to gamble my fellow hunters on. I will not have you be the weak hunter who would make us bury a dozen of his betters through his own shortcomings." Ari stood a few meters in front of Helgi, his back turned to his junior hunter. Despite Helgi's initial impression Ari had a look of understanding and acceptance as his father all but denounced him in front of the entire village for being 'too weak'.

"Ari, I hereby banish you from South End to wander Jagt Island until you've proven yourself to one of the other chieftains. The prey you will hunt will not be the majestic Sea Kings of the south, but rather the lesser sharks and dogs and bears up north. You are not to show your face down here again unless it is for a public event such as the Hunter Ascendant Feast. Should you manage to prove you are the equal of one of our Apex Hunters in all respects, I, or my successor, will lift this banishment and welcome you back with open arms." Ignoring his own poor choice of words Egil then turned his attention to Helgi.

"Helgi, you too I will banish, but due to the danger you represent I will not allow you to wander the island and put the lives of others at risk." And with that he pointed to the south, to the Calm Belt.

"You will go south and you will do battle with whatever predator you come across. You will fight them until death comes to one or both of you. You will continue your journey south until you either die or come across land. If it's a deserted island you may build a new life there, if people live there you must continue your journey. Unlike with Ari there will be no conditions for you to return or to be one of us ever again. Should you show your face here ever again you will be put down. And should you avoid us and venture further north to the civilized seas, I will know and I will hunt you down personally." At no point did Egil raise his voice. When he said he would know if Helgi went north and he would put him down, he meant exactly that. Regardless of what he might one day be capable of doing, Egil, the undisputed greatest master of the Enlightenment of the Sky would definitely be able to kill him without much effort and everybody knew it. Nobody else raised their voices, be it in agreement or protest at Egil's decree. They all knew better than to draw Egil's gaze right now. Of course, that was when the hand let go of Helgi's neck.

"Egil, I understand and agree with your decision regarding your son, but to foist off the execution of my own son of to the Sea Kings? On that I call your judgement into question." Slowly, as if the man had not a care in the world, Bjorn walked past Helgi and, after patting his son on the shoulder, moved past him to face his chief.

"Seems like I was quite the fool to believe that you had already resigned yourself to my judgment. A lion's silence should not be confused with its approval." With practiced ease Egil covered his mouth, hiding the small smirk that had accompanied his bastardization of a local saying. In spite of the clear disrespect that Bjorn showed he did not feel insulted or intimidated in the slightest.

"The mere fact that we so often see pirates and marines show off their abnormal powers, as weird as some of them can get, as if it were an extension of themselves is proof enough that it can be controlled and mastered. Denying Helgi the opportunity to accomplish the same is shortsighted at best and at worst cowardly."

"And again, Bjorn, there is nobody here who doesn't understand what you're going through. But regardless of how your feel as a father, I cannot take the risk that would come with keeping your boy confined to Raghorn mountain. Not to mention the chaos that would follow if the mountain animals were to flee en masse after being on the receiving end of one of his episodes one too many times. My duty as a village chief prevents me from letting the boy stay on the island and my moral duty as a human being will not allow him to endanger anybody else. Face it, Bjorn, Helgi must leave."

Bjorn couldn't help but glance back at his still kneeling son. The boy hadn't said one more word than needed since waking up all tied up and with his father's hand wrapped around his neck. Bjorn knew he should probably show more concern about that than he did, but if he were being honest with himself all that worrying would simply make him lose his thread of mind. No, better to assume for now that Helgi was being as accepting about this all like Ari. For now, Bjorn would just have to get his son out of his mess as well as he could.

"No, Egil, once again I find your reasoning in this lacking. There is after all an obvious solution to this that you just don't want to say out loud: have a trustworthy hunter be with Helgi twenty-four seven and intervene should he 'have one of his episodes' as you put it. Needless to say, as the one who held him down without being affected by his power I am most suited for this role."

"You think I would sacrifice one of my strongest hunters just to satisfy your sense of sentimentality, Bjorn? Sounds to me like you're starting to think too highly of yourself. Maybe I should show you your place, mountain lion." The sound of cracking knuckles echoed throughout the town square, but before Egil could make good on his threat, Bjorn's arm became a blur. So fast that nobody but his fellow Apex Hunters could follow, two tiny blurs raced past the gathering and into the houses behind them. The less accomplished hunters were distracted by the terrible noise of the buildings being ripped to pieces. The veterans, on the other hand, knew better than to take their eyes off of the other three needle-like hairs that floated innocently above Bjorn.

The point had been made. Egil seemed to realize that as well as he lowered his fists.

"I suppose it would be irresponsible of me to fight you so close to the regular hunters. If I'm doing this to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, I suppose I can allow you to get away with your insolence this once, Bjorn. But make no mistake, if you leave with your son and dare show your face again afterwards, I will take you down, regardless of the cost. If you want to be accepted here once more, you'll either have to present Helgi's head to me or have him prove his absolute control over his power."

"I wouldn't dare ask for anything more than that, Egil. By the way, Ari, you interested in tagging along with us for a bit? If nothing else I can teach you some cool tricks that will make adapting to your new circumstances go as smooth as possible." Ari's confused gaze darted between the father-and-son pair before stopping at Bjorn's earnest, if somewhat brittle, smile. Not trusting his own voice the blonde simply nodded.

'Glad we got that out of the way. Now I think it would be best if we departed as soon as possible, so tomorrow we'll be going for an invigorating swim up north to whatever island is closest. Don't worry, Ari, I'll be there to support you should you need it."

This would not be the story of the next Pirate King. Nor would the secret of the Poneglyphs be revealed for all to see. And yes, neither would this be a tale of standing up to the World Government and dragging its masters down from their golden throne. A smaller scale, a more personal touch.

Yet still a tale that would rock the world to its core.


	2. Chapter 2: The Cursed Hunter

**Chapter 2: The Cursed Hunter**

The way each child reacted when they would stand before the marvelous stained glass of the final triumph of the twenty kings never failed to bring a smile to sister Giselle's face. Whether it were the girls who would gush over how pretty the royal attires were or how handsome this or that king or prince was or the boys who were too distracted by how 'awesome' the final clash should have been, the nun of the Lunca abbey adored them all. And her fellow nuns said she would come to regret her one-woman crusade to eradicate illiteracy and innumeracy alike.

"Lucy, your m looks too much like your n. Remember, we don't live on Binarin Island, but Binarim so make sure to leave enough space between all the legs. You've been studying hard, haven't you, Eric? To think that you've solved the equation that gave you so much trouble last week, keep it up." And just like that Giselle continued her free-spirited lesson plan, all but darting from one child to the next, mixing compliments with advice as easily as one would pluck a bouquet of wildflowers. The children themselves had already grown so used to Giselle's style of teaching that they didn't even bother to raise their hands if they had a question. After all, by the time they even realized that something was unclear the motherly nun was already beside them, the answer dancing on her lips. Only the newest student hadn't internalized that lesson yet, the young boy all but jumping up and down in his seat, much to the embarrassment of the older boy next to him. It didn't take much for Giselle to see why.

"Oh my, Bjorn, this is really good. You added so much detail and the herd of sharks at the Pyrite Wharf are so cute." Indeed, what Bjorn was proudly showing off was a drawing of Binarim Island, the names of the various towns and other major sights scribbled all over. Giselle was polite enough not to mention the few spelling errors she spotted across the surprisingly good, if basic, map of Binarim Island. She was already ecstatic that the seven-year old boy had progressed as much as he had over the past three weeks. As much as she didn't want to, Giselle's eyes wandered to the side to look at the older boy next to Bjorn and the poorly concealed remains of his left arm. Mostly through Bjorn's efforts the older boy had been opening up to her for the past week, but even so he wouldn't talk about what had happened to his arm. Even if she knew that it would be best for her to wait until he felt ready to talk, she didn't want to leave him to let his bitterness over losing his future as a fisherman on his father's boat turn him into a cynical young man. Not when she knew that Ari could achieve so much in life if he just learned to confide in other people and accept the past for what it was. At least he had Bjorn and some other boy to confide in.

And so the day trudged on, with the nun teaching and giving advice where she could, but soon enough even that came to an end when some parents or neighbors came to pick up the children, reminding the rest that they too should leave lest they get back home after dark.

Of course, unlike the other students who were more interested in the contents of their dinner or the latest (mis)adventure of Sora, the Warrior of the Sea, Bjorn and Ari had more important things to discuss.

"I still don't get why you're prancing around like a preteen child, Mountain Lion Bjorn. Even if you want to learn from nobody but sister Giselle, she does hold classes for adults too." Ari didn't so much as raise an eyebrow as Bjorn shot up, once more towering over him as the Apex Hunter was his full height again.

"Obviously because I wouldn't be able to have as much fun if I were to go as a full-grown man. Besides, I learn better if I've got something to distract me with."

Well, more important to discuss by the slimmest margins imaginable.

"It's always so busy around here. To the locals something like the hustle and bustle of the Hunter's Ascendant Feast would be utterly mundane, wouldn't it?" Ari didn't bother looking at the man who had taken him under his wing and his casual (or dare he say, pretentious) flaunting of his mastery of the Enlightenment of the Sea.

"It's a big world out there and quite a bit of it is prettier than Jagt Island could ever hope to be. People from all across the North Blue visit Binarim harbor every day, after all. Even if I've spent the majority of the past few weeks stuck in that little classroom besides the chapel, simply meeting with people who think differently from me, who know things I had never even considered, I've learned more in the last month than in the last decade." Said harbor was still easily visible to the pair from the forest's edge, the taverns all but glowing as night fell. While all three of them would have liked to roam its streets by night and stay in an inn, the lack of funds, that hallmark of civilization, made that a pipe dream. Not that Helgi would have entered the harbor, given he still hadn't figured out what had caused his 'episode'. Instead the three of them had gotten comfy in a fairly spacious cave, after ejecting its previous occupants, of course.

"Besides, Ari, didn't we start learning arithmetic and the written word precisely because the world is so much bigger than we could have ever imagined? Seriously, the more I get to know Binarim and the North Blue in general, the more I start to appreciate Helgi's wisdom in learning about other cultures and its people." Ari couldn't suppress a sigh as Bjorn rambled on. Was it because he was a father that he felt compelled to lecture him at the drop of a hat? Ari turned away, but even so he knew that Bjorn had seen the flinch that he had tried to cover up with the sigh. They both knew that he wasn't ready to have a heart-to-heart with Helgi, let alone forgive him for how he had ruined his life and future in South End. Even if it had been beyond Helgi's control, his former best friend had nearly killed him.

As expected of the ever-popular lead of his nightmares. He had yet to miss a single night.

Without him realizing it, Bjorn had started ruffling his hair. He hadn't even realized that the man had stopped talking and when he looked him in the eyes he saw understanding and acceptance reflected in them, unlike the pity or remorse of his father the night he banished him.

"Ari, I know that you're not interested in why Helgi suddenly stopped knowing how to swim, but if you're interested I think it's about time I make good on my promise from that night."

And just like that the last traces of confusion evaporated from Ari's mind.

"I think you've recovered enough for what I'm planning to teach you, so Ari: want to know how to become an Apex Hunter?"

* * *

"The first lesson was taught on the ocean floor. Below where even the Sea Kings would dwell, beyond the reach of the sun's rays all that remains is the current. The Sea shows that, despite how inhospitable a place might seem, so long as you can still move, the world will be your oyster.

For the Sea knows: Enlightenment is born out of freedom."

He had been following the same routine for the last three weeks and finally he no longer felt like an ant hive was scurrying beneath his skin whenever he called up the strange ability that eating that fruit had bestowed him with. Whatever had caused the tragedy of that night, Helgi had made a vow to himself during his final hours on Jagt Island that there would be no second 'mass manslaughter'. He owed at least that much to the departed spirits of Nial and Leif and the others whose lives he had torn to shreds. Helgi didn't know if there were any other twelve year old boys that had to carry a burden like that on their shoulders, but he felt like had to and that was all that mattered.

"After the Sea had taught the sage to tower over the Sea Kings and manipulate every single strand of hair as if it were another digit, he climbed the highest mountain, not resting even once until he had reached the summit. The Sea might have entranced him with its mastery over ten thousand different arts, but the lesson the Mountain wished to impart was singular and thus all the more profound. To be as enduring as stone and as indestructible as diamond is to truly thrive in the harsh wilderness of the world.

For the Mountain knows: Enlightenment is revealed through enduring the harshness of the world."

To be frank, Helgi hadn't dared to practice anything other than absorbing and expelling the small pebbles and twigs that littered the clearing, even as he could feel that unnatural gnawing feeling return bit by bit over the weeks. Disturbingly enough it reminded him of a predator who was no longer satiated by yesterday's catch and now hungered for more. So far it was more desire than necessity, but until he knew for sure what drove this mysterious power for more he would not indulge it. Not unless it would put the lives of others at risk.

Besides, he had gotten rather good at targeting specific pieces. No more wanton destruction on his part. Not unless he wanted to, that is.

"The sage believed himself the master after having fully internalized the teachings of both the Sea and the Mountain. Boasting before the Beast of his unmatched wisdom and power, it simply smiled its sly and mysterious smile. It asked how many blades of grass the sage had trampled coming down from the Mountain and how long his body could hold out before he would have to chase down a hare for dinner like a common fox. Despite having mastered the duality of motion and stasis, the sage could not answer and was humbled once more, acknowledging the Beast's wisdom and showed it the same respect as he had the Sea and the Mountain. After all, without mastering the self there can be no true understanding.

For the Beast knows: Enlightenment is understood only by those who've lived a life worth a thousand."

After all, even as he was reminiscing he still kept repeating the mantra of the sage's journey, the story giving him some small sense of comfort.

Attracting and repelling. Helgi might not consider himself the 'master' of this duality, but he could feel that he was only scratching the surface. He sure wouldn't mind somebody showing up to 'humble' him and teach him what he couldn't see on his own, but if he were to be completely honest with himself, he would admit to being scared. Scared of how much more there was hiding beneath the surface and what the consequences would be if he failed again, how many would have to suffer because he couldn't handle things again.

He couldn't know how deep the rabbit hole goes.

"Gifted with the eyes of a hawk and the vitality of a man a third his age, the sage wandered into the Forest, aware that the secretive master had lessons of his own to impart. The Forest never answered his pleas, yet revealed to him the fish in the stream and the spider weaving its web. It is known that there are as many teachers as there are stars in the sky.

For the Forest knows: Enlightenment is spread by those who've cultivated the world inside themselves."

The sun was setting and Helgi was going through the last repetition of the most difficult exercise he had devised: attracting and repelling an ever growing amount of pebbles and leaves and twigs, not once letting any of it touch his skin or fall back down on the ground. He had even gotten to the point that the tempo differed from item to item. He was already 'juggling' over forty individual items and he knew he could go even beyond that if he pushed himself.

"With the secret of the spider's web dancing in his hands and gills adorning his neck, the sage looked up at the Sky, the final teacher who had been watching from afar. Four masters had deemed him worthy, four secret arts etched onto his soul. The Sky showed him the error of his ways: there has only ever been a single lesson. To master the self is to master the world, for the boundary between the two is but an illusion of the unenlightened. Even if a thousand miles separated the sage from his heart, it would still pump his blood. Even if the trees and the wind lived lives inscrutable to the Sea or the Mountain, they would be as the fingers and the lungs of the sage. Everything, from the smallest mouse to the twenty dragons that made this world, is the world and the world is the sage.

For the Sky knows: To know the self and to know the world is to achieve enlightenment."

As he finished reciting the tale of the sage's discovery of the five arts of 'Life Return' Helgi could feel himself exiting the trance that he had been under. For an instant all the little bits and pieces that he had been juggling remained frozen in the air, seemingly orbiting him like satellites around a planet. Then the moment passed and all of it was banished once more into the surrounding forest. Despite the exertion Helgi didn't sweat or pant, in fact he looked like he had just woken up from a refreshing nap, as if the mental strain he had endured had been nothing more than a childish daydream.

Wherever he was going to go with his musings Helgi would never know as his train of thought came to a brutal end with the sound of a clap. Or rather many, many claps. A one-man applause if you will.

"Man, what a show. I'd ask for an encore, but you probably got places to meet and people to be. Or was that the other way around?" All Helgi could do was stare at the newcomer who was trying, and failing, to stifle his giggling.

It wasn't even a good joke.

"Don't you know it's dangerous to be out in the forest when night falls? You never know what you might find." The sun had just set, after all, and the nearest house was a hour's walk from the clearing. The boy stopped laughing, but in spite of the implied threat he casually approached Helgi, a well-made stick twirling from one hand to the other.

"It's very kind of you to worry for my sake, but the only people I who would try anything with me are outsiders and some of the more stubborn wild animals. And yes I do consider the wildlife around here to be people as well. Quite a few of them are smarter than some humans I know." He was a good bit taller than Helgi, one end of the stick now resting on his shoulder.

Oh wait, there was a metal shape attached at the end of it. He had heard of those before, even seen a drawing of it once or twice.

"You know, you're probably fine in this clearing, but won't the size of your spear work against you if you were to use it in the forest? The foliage can get really thick there."

"Which is why I came here in the first place. It's one thing to run through a kata in the paved courtyard, it's something else altogether when there are branches and shrubberies wherever you look. It's pretty much the only way I can still grow as a spearman without getting into life-and-death battles." The more he talked, the more excited he seemed to get, almost as if he was ecstatic that Helgi understood his plight.

"Of course, I do this whenever the head teacher is sleeping off his hangover and the old bastard has been stone-cold sober for the last two weeks. Anyways, I'm Didier and I haven't seen you around here before. So what brings you to this part of the North Blue and what else can you do with little juggling trick of yours?" The newly named Didier was now bouncing on his feet, the spear in turn bouncing on his shoulder. It was obvious to Helgi that Didier didn't care about the late hour or any reluctance the twelve-year old might have about 'being enlisted for an unscheduled sparring bout', so logically he threw the first punch.

Didier managed to hold on to his spear as it was 'pushed' away and was forced back two steps before he managed to regain his balance. As such Didier only barely managed to deflect the pebble that had come rocketing out of Helgi's forehead, thus leaving him wide open to the junior hunter slamming himself into the spearman.

An instant later the both of them had disappeared in the thick foliage, Didier unable to adjust to the next 'push' whilst in midair. The Binarim native already admitted to the difficulty of using his weapon amongst the dense trees, so how much more of a handicap would it be if his opponent would deny him proper footing? After all, Helgi needed some practice with a struggling target if he wanted to really understand and eventually master this barely chained predator he was now housing inside himself.

Actually, that didn't sound half-bad at all. His father and the other veteran hunters all insisted that no move was truly complete if it lacked a name. He was sure he would get laughed at should he ever speak it out loud, not to mention how even he knew that he was overcompensating. Still, none of the embarrassment he would face would match up to the simple fact that it sounded cool, which was all that mattered.

Between a god who would struggle with all their might against their bonds and one who willingly donned their chains, who would be victorious?

* * *

Any other night Bjorn would have been content with just staring up at the starry night sky, its sight enough to get rid of any trace of homesickness he may have had. Yet for all its beauty it did nothing to get his mind away from Egil's son and how fragile his mental wellbeing was at the moment. He still didn't know, and probably would never know, if taking him on as an apprentice would help his bruised psyche recover from his mutilation and exile. Not when it meant that he was being forced to be around the source of said mutilation. Did he view Helgi as a traitor for his role in that tragedy or was his son just another victim of circumstances?

All Bjorn could say was that he could not allow either one of them to be alone in the world. Not for as long as either one of them had nobody else to turn to. Until that day would come, he would be there to answer their questions and get them to think for themselves.

This is why he had never taken on an apprentice before, despite being heralded as the greatest Beast Sage alive and the greatest Mountain Sage, period. Being this introspective was tiring like no hunt could ever be.

Ah yes, Ari was waiting for his reply, wasn't he?

"Just as I thought, you correctly identified the three most obvious requirements for being acknowledged as an Apex Hunter: skill in all five Arts of Enlightenment, mastery of at least one of those and showcasing raw combat skill by killing an adult Sea King in a one-on-one fight. There are five conditions in total, and of the two you haven't named yet it's the Hunter's Intuition that I find to be the more pertinent."

Ari perked up as Bjorn mentioned a vaguely familiar term, the teenaged boy clearly remembering his father mentioning the Intuition once before.

"The gift of being able to foretell what your prey is going to do before they've even begun to act? I thought it only awakened when one has brought down a mighty prey after ritually fasting for ten days beforehand."

"Sure, you're more likely to start hearing the inner voice of your prey if you're in a really desperate situation, but you rarely have to go that far to unlock it. Even if you're not born with a natural aptitude for it, it can be taught somewhat safely." Bjorn didn't even bother to hide a frown as he gazed up to the starry night sky, or what little bit of it peeked through the forest's canopy.

"For the sake of completion I'll mention the last requirement, that being that the prospective Apex Hunter needs to be able to obtain the prey of an acknowledged Apex Hunter, either by killing it before the established Apex Hunter can or successfully stealing the bounty. Either way, fulfilling this requirement shows that the new Apex Hunter can mask their presence and intentions before striking while showcasing the extent of their reflexes and ingenuity as they outrun the Apex Hunter. I have no doubt that you could easily learn the Five Arts and the Hunter's Intuition, but singlehandedly killing a Sea King or outrunning an Apex Hunter whilst carrying their prey with your one arm? In your current condition those would be far tougher to achieve."

Ari's eyes narrowed there, instantly picking up on what was left unsaid.

"You told me that my condition was as stable as it would get, so how would it change from how it is currently? Can you…grow it back?" It was almost painful to watch Ari give himself hope for an eventual recovery, only to then smother it immediately afterwards. While he could not realistically do anything about his mangled arm right now, that was no reason to give up hope altogether.

"Even for a hunter who has mastered the Enlightenment of the Beast to the same extent that I have, it would still take about a month of uninterrupted focus to regrow something as big as an entire limb. And even then I would not be able to help you, a hunter's mastery of the base four arts can affect only their own body." He had no doubt that Egil would have told him that before. The tribal chief did always demand perfection from himself and from those close to him. Seeing that young child desperately work himself to the bone in an attempt to recover his arm using the Enlightenment of the Beast was nothing short of heartwrenching. Why did Ari have to inherit his father's frustration at not seeing immediate results?

"Just to make sure that you don't have any other misconceptions, how about you recite the exact domains and strengths of each of the arts? You don't have to use any of that flowery language from the Disciple's Hymn or any of the other popular myths, just be clear and concise."

Ari relaxed slightly, the undoubtedly well-rehearsed answer already dancing on his lips.

"The Sea represents all the various arts that govern movement, be it expanding or compressing parts of your body or have your hair move of their own accord. The Mountain, on the other hand, has only a single art: the hardening of hair, skin or nail until it surpasses even the strongest of armors. The only variant there is on this is when the hunter launches one or more of these 'spines' at their prey using a form of Sea Enlightenment. Depending on the force used to launch the spines the inflicted damage can range from a simple mosquito bite to…well, demolishing a building with a single hair." And with that Bjorn could no longer hold an embarrassed chuckle back. Even if it had been in defense of his only child, saddling the people of South End with even more repair work had been rather irresponsible of him.

"The Beast represents the many arts that're involved with improving the body's natural functions, from the various senses to the efficacy of one's metabolism, which apparently includes wholesale regeneration as well. The Forest, on the other hand, covers those disciplines that, instead of enhancing the hunter's natural capabilities, add onto what the human body is naturally capable of doing. Instantly developing gills to breath underwater or synthesizing your own venoms are the most popular arts, but every hunter is required to know the Forest Art that keeps us free from the shackles of nutritional dependency of fruits and vegetables. And that's not even getting into any of the more obscure and fun variants that exist, like shedding light as bright as the lighthouse at the harbor or modifying sweat glands to produce spider silk. In terms of versatility the Forest is the undisputed king amongst the Five Arts.

"Finally there is the Sky. I don't think there is a single Sky Sage on Jagt Island who wasn't taught it by an experienced Apex Hunter, but from what I understand the Enlightenment of the Sky is the ability to utilize any of the other arts on a bodypart that has been separated from the main body. Using the Sea to animate some spittle to dance around the prey, altering it into a powerful paralytic on contact or tearing them apart from the inside as you harden it by way of the Mountain. A true Sky Sage is like a tribe of Apex Hunters onto themselves, or so the stories go." Bjorn was polite enough not to say anything about how rehearsed that last bit sounded. He knew from personal experience how proud chief Egil was about being known far and wide as the greatest Sky Sage of their generation, but with the way his son was talking about the subject sounded only a step away from outright indoctrination. Not really a good way to help develop critical thinking skills in his child, that was for sure.

"Well, Ari, it seems pretty obvious to me that you're most suited to the Sea and Forest Arts. That's good, means that I can help you shore up your weaknesses all the easier." For instance, if Ari was more proficient with the Beast and the Hunter's Intuition, he would know where Helgi and the pole-wielding kid had disappeared to after their scuffle had started in earnest. And perhaps he would one day be able to identify different fighting styles by the sounds they produce, such as the rapid staccato of air displacement that foretold each individual stab from the unknown kid. Or alternatively there was the far more subtle sound of Helgi's newly sharpened skills, its silent thrum all but announcing his boy's supernatural skill in banishing and attracting the elements of the world around him. In fact, Bjorn was sure that, if he were closer to the battlefield he would be able to tell exactly where Helgi was using his ability by hearing alone. It reminded him of the grinding noise that accompanied a powerful, but unskilled Mountain Hunter whenever they moved. A potential weakness that he would have to address when Helgi further mastered his power.

Luckily, Helgi wasn't smelling like he was panicking or even particularly angry. As such Bjorn saw no harm in letting his only child work his frustration away in a more productive way than he has been for the past three weeks. And if the little sparring match took a turn for the worst, the kids were only a bit over a kilometer away from his and Ari's current location. He'd be there to break it up if he felt so necessary. In the meantime, he could do more good with Ari right now than he could with Helgi.

It wasn't always easy, having a son that needed his independence in order to truly thrive.

"In general you would be correct in your descriptions, Ari, even if there are some interesting applications about the Mountain and the Beast that you're overlooking, which you wouldn't have if you were more experienced with them. For instance, due to the way that the hardening works, Mountain Sages, whilst employing the Mountain, do not shed any piece of their body. For the true masters amongst them this applies to everything, even the smallest particles of their bodies. A Mountain Sage on the hunt is virtually impossible to track, especially not by smell. Of course the same effect can be reached with the Enlightenment of the Sky, where you can just have all that you've shed swirling around you, but then you're just adding a new step to the process to keep track of, rather than having it be a potent side-effect to your main Art." If nothing else, the sharp focus that was radiating from Ari's eyes as Bjorn started to explain the faults in his explanation put the more experienced hunter at ease. His split-second decision back in South End proved to be paying of already. How long would it have otherwise taken him to realize that Helgi's friend was this good a student?

"Also, I get the feeling that you're not considering the merits of experimenting with the grey area between both the Beast and the Forest Arts. Given that that is a topic in which I can literally fill a whole day talking about I won't go into much detail now but adopting a bat's hearing or a snake's sense of taste can really broaden your horizon, in more ways than one." Bjorn glanced up, looking once again at the stars above them. It wouldn't do if he left Helgi alone with his new friend for the entirety of the evening, not to mention that they'd yet to have their dinner. He would give the two of them about half an hour of playtime longer, but afterwards he would have to pick Helgi up. Or to put it differently, if he wanted to get any actual tutoring with Ari done tonight he would have to speed his little explanation along.

"Finally, concerning the Enlightenment of the Sky, I don't think you fully comprehend the sheer power that even an inexperienced Sky Sage has at their fingertips. Take your father for instance, or to be more precise his epitaph of 'Heaven's Gaze'. His Intuition is powerful enough that he can generate it from something as small as a strand of hair or broken piece of nail, which he has scattered all around Jagt Island. That he is capable of manipulating those scattered fragments of himself all across the island is indeed a testament to his claim of being like a Hunter tribe onto himself, but that is not the extent of what can be achieved with the Sky. I'm sure you're familiar with the tale of the Sage of the Spiral Bridge?"

"If you're going to imply that you can actually control the mountains as your fingers and the oceans as your blood by 'seeing past the illusion of separation between the world and the sage' I'll be marching right back to the harbor to get absolutely shitfaced. And I'll make you pay for it all." Bjorn had expected a somewhat more…tempered reaction, but he couldn't fault Ari for being skeptical. He had been as well when his mentor had divulged the core of truth that laid within that particular campfire tale.

"While I won't say that it is absolutely impossible to 'join earth and sky as a bridge to reach the sea of stars', that's not what I meant. To be honest, there actually is a 'form-surpassing wisdom' aspect to the Enlightenment of the Sky that only its most talented users can make use of. The previous chief of South End, your granduncle Andor, was quite famous for being able to use any of the Arts on everything from fallen leaves to blood his prey had spilt, so long as it had ceased being alive. Why, that man didn't consider our training in the Sky complete until we could wrestle our own floating blood away from his grip." From the dumbfounded look Ari was giving it was clear that the boy hadn't even heard of Andor, let alone what he had been capable of. What would have been the point for Egil to not talk about his uncle and the limits of what could be achieved with the Sky? Even should a talented youth emerge, if he or she were unaware of what their predecessors had accomplished, wouldn't they be wasting too much time figuring out what was and was not possible with the Five Arts? Why waste all that time and talent reinventing the raft?

A scream echoed throughout the clearing. A startled Ari instinctively turned towards the direction of the sound, but by the time he had done so Bjorn was already gone.

It was already bad that his boy's scream was loud enough to be heard by Ari from over a thousand meters away, but as a father he knew that that wasn't a scream of pain or even fear of one's life.

That was a sound that could only be born from a mind engulfed in sorrow and despair.

What had happened, Helgi?

* * *

When Helgi had started flinging Didier all across the clearing into the dense woods, he had expected the overly enthusiastic spearman to be wasting all his time and effort in trying to regain his balance. It would have been child's play to keep him off balance and scrambling for any semblance of stability, leaving Helgi with all the time he could ever need to pelt him with whatever improvised projectile he could get his hands on. That prediction would have come true if he had indeed been facing a spearman and not a deranged monkey masquerading as one.

Trying to pin Didier down was proving to be an exercise in futility. Whether he was doing involuntary cartwheels whilst upside down or repeatedly faceplanting into trees, the older boy always managed to get his footing and keep him from dominating from afar. It wasn't as if he was foreseeing where the attacks were coming from or how they would try to trip him up. If anything Helgi could only assume that it was some diabolical combination of fast reflexes, extremely quick decision making and sheer combat experience that was letting Didier stay in the fight as well as he had. Worst of all, Helgi could already see how much more efficient the spearman's movements were becoming and how much easier it was getting each time for him to regain his balance. Here he was trying to improve his understanding of his own abilities and this other guy had the nerve get more out of this spar than he was.

"Come on, man, your bag of tricks can't be running empty already, can it?"

"This coming from the guy that got slapped in the face by a tree branch? Twice?" Thus far Helgi had only been forced to invoke the Mountain once when the older boy had managed to successfully pin him down. That tiny flicker of confusion when the butt of his spear harmlessly bounced off of Helgi's forehead was all the young hunter had needed to dart away to a safe distance, but even that small reprieve had run its course. Didier was beginning to dominate the fight again, although he now knew better than to leap in again half-cocked.

After all, Helgi understood Didier to the point that he knew that the spearman wasn't taunting him or trying to get him to act rashly. Didier was just a big child, eagerly awaiting the next magic trick in this one-man show.

He ducked beneath the spearhead, leaving two strands of hair behind on the blade. Helgi was sure that he could disengage fast enough that Didier would lose track of him for at least ten minutes. In that time he could trap a sizeable part of the forest and dominate the remainder of the fight once he let himself be found again. He could start employing the various Arts of Enlightenment to a greater degree, make use of his foe's uncertainty and hesitation and force him to surrender before he could get the chance to adapt.

For all his skill and experience, Helgi was confident he could take Didier down the moment he used everything he had at his disposal. And what a pointless victory that would be.

Even if he would never say it out loud, Helgi knew he was scared. Scared of the gnawing claws that dwelled within him, whose torment had led to the mutilation of his best friend and the death of ten others. He was frightened of what the slow buildup of that same hunger deep within him could mean and he was well aware that it was that fear that had kept him from harnessing anything other than his power to attract and repel small objects. He knew of at least one other aspect of his new power that he had ignored the past few weeks.

Helgi could almost feel the bemused smirk on Didier's face as he leapt away to dart away, leaving himself wide open for the inevitable lunge that would see Didier's spear bury itself in his back. He was sure that the older boy could only wonder at the kind of madness that must have taken ahold of him, that he would drop his defenses like that in order to run straight into a giant oak. If he had had the sense to keep track of his surroundings, he might have dodged the rock before it impacted his knee. Unfortunately for him, he did not.

For a second Didier let down his guard as he made sure that nothing was broken, but as soon as he looked up both Helgi and the oak had vanished into thin air. But whereas any other man would be on their guard for a sneak attack, Didier merely grinned as he had since the start of their bout.

"Come on, Helgi, surely you're not the type to leave me guessing where you hid that tree? Because Id on't think you'd like my answer, little squirrel." It had become rather clear to the both of them that, regardless of what Helgi was planning, this fight was coming to a close. Despite the brave front he put up, it was painfully obvious that he was on his last legs. Compared to the start of the bout the boy could barely move anymore, relying on parries and tricks to stay in the fight, his punches hitting with all the force of a feather pillow.

"Trading in your spear for barbs, are we? Start paying attention or you'll lose this before you're done running your mouth." Both of them knew that Helgi would have been better off had he retreated back into the foliage, waiting to ambush Didier and take him down in a single strike. Instead he just leaned against a different tree, looking as if he had already won.

What sort of man would he be if he refused such an obvious invitation?

"Don't disappoint me now, Helgi!" In the blink of an eye Didier closed the distance. As soon as his spear raced forward Helgi fell down on his knees, his hand still touching the tree bark. Helgi's final gambit came crashing down on him like a whirlwind. Whips of wood rained down from the tree above him as the earth beneath him shuddered.

For a moment he believed he would overcome Helgi's final trick. That glimmer of hope died an unceremonious death as a massive amount of earth came pouring down from the pseudo vines, right as the ground beneath him gave out.

As his consciousness started slipping away Didier couldn't help but be amazed. Even if he still wholeheartedly believed in his mentor's creed of the supremacy of the spear, there really was nothing that could beat a good magic show.

* * *

It hadn't taken long to dig Didier out. While it had come as something of a relief to Helgi that he wasn't limited to absorbing human flesh within himself, the sheer strain that that tree had put him under had been unpleasant in its own way. As soon as he had expunged the last of the wood he knew, as if by instinct, that the leaf-shaped marking on his sternum had vanished with it, which was right around the time Didier came to.

"I can't imagine there is anybody else in the North, if not the entire world, that would be happy about losing a fight by being buried alive like you were." That was something of an understatement. Once Didier had gotten up and dusted himself off he had been all but vibrating in place out of excitement, rapid firing question after question without so much as slowing down to take a breath. Compared to the more subtle interest his father and Ari tended to show him and his hobbies this was overwhelming to say the least.

"As I've been saying, it doesn't matter how it was done. Facing a spear or a sword or a gun is something I'm used to and there is nothing more I can learn without facing them in real life-or-death struggles. Compared to that, those few minutes expanded my worldview. A real eye-opener, that was." Helgi did have a good reason to keep Didier company, even when he did not know how to feel about the older boy's exuberance.

That reason, of course, was food. Didier had pushed the somewhat dusty 'sandwich' in his hands, as the spearman had called it. Helgi was of course not unfamiliar with the concept of seasoning or mixing foodstuffs together, but he still could not help but be amazed by the intricacy of what he was nibbling on. Slices of baked flour containing between them four different kinds of diced vegetables wrapped around slices of hardboiled egg and solidified milk and a sweet white sauce. What sort of visionary was sitting beside him that he could craft such a groundbreaking dish and what other revelations might he reveal when the stars aligned?

"I'm glad you like the sandwich, but aren't you heaping up the praise a bit too much now? It's just something I slapped together from whatever I'd swiped from the kitchens." Sheepishly Helgi took another bite, drowning the twinge of embarrassment for having said that out loud away with the culinary revelation in his hands.

"But getting back to the spar, I've never even heard of any fighting style that could let you do even half of what you showed off there. Not even the Jagt folks down south and their weird body manipulation can do that, so is it a Devil Fruit?" For a second there Helgi was afraid he would choke on the last morsel of 'sandwich' as it passed through the wrong hole, his coughing and sputtering stopping the conversation cold. This random kid might know the reason for why he lost control that night? An explanation for the death and mutilation? For why he and Ari had been exiled?

Once he had gotten his breathing back under control, Helgi nodded and Didier began the most fantastic tale the young hunter had ever heard. He talked of the famous men and women who had been bestowed with the Devil's power, who had sacrificed their ability to swim for mastery of the elements or the ability to adopt the guise of a fierce predator. He talked of the fleet admiral of the marines and the spark of divinity that according to some dwells within him. And though the names and the feats of those who wielded the power of the Zoan and the Logia Devil Fruits were as awe-inspiring as they were numerous Helgi could feel his heart skip beat after beat as Didier talked of the Paramecia and how it managed to defy any and all explanation and expectation.

Even as Didier continued talking about warriors who could make islands fly or make them sink beneath the waves Helgi had only one question he wanted answered: Did these warriors feel that same impatience gnawing beneath their skin? Was this something that they all learned to live with or conquer this base instinct?

"There's no way I would know what it would feel like to have eaten one of those Fruits and good luck finding anybody here in the North to hold your hand. Most of the Devil Fruit users eventually find their way to the Grand Line one way or another. Honestly, your only realistic shot at finding an experienced Devil Fruit wielder is either the Marines or the Don Quixote crime family. If the rumors are to be believed those mobsters have something of a dozen different Devil Fruit wielders in their ranks."

"Those are the only people I can turn towards? I have to choose between criminals or the tribe that demands multiple islands' worth of riches before they bless you with their protection? If those are my options I would be better off just fighting them myself and learning by observation." He didn't even bother commenting on the poor job Didier did of muffling his laughter, but as soon as the leaves started encircling the younger boy Didier was instantly enraptured by the intricate dance that unfolded before him. The way the foliage was disappearing into Helgi, only to sprout back out with an elegant twist was frankly hypnotic. So entranced was he by the improvised performance that he didn't notice the intricately made chest flying at him until he was already flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him.

His grin hadn't faded, even if it looked slightly more forced than before, as Didier picked himself back up. Rather than the sudden gut blow he was far more interested in the parchment that Helgi had peeled off of his arm, an odd look on his face as the younger boy examined it.

"I'm sorry, I had completely forgotten that I was still carrying this from before. Funny story, I found it buried beneath a decrepit corpse with that disgusting fruit and the paper so I was really confused how they managed to get such a well-made and unblemished piece buried beneath it. The body just crumbled away when I touched it, so it must have been really old. Isn't that weird?" Helgi kept on rambling as he pulled Didier up from the ground. As soon as he started babbling about personal failures involving falling for his own traps Didier put his hand on Helgi's shoulder, shutting the young hunter up. With a resigned look Helgi pulled the sheet of paper back out of the book shaped mark on his hand and handed it over to Didier. Whether it was embarrassment or because he actually had something to hide, Didier didn't know and he frankly couldn't care one way or another.

"You said you found this with your Devil Fruit?" Didier barely registered the quick nod Helgi had shot him, too engrossed was he by whatever was written on the paper. Then he read it again.

"Helgi, can you te…have you read this? Did you eat that Devil Fruit before or after you read this, Helgi?" The paper was starting to crumple in Didier's grip.

"I…I haven't gotten the chance to read a lot in the past couple of months, so I took a bite as I was trying to eat it, but it tasted so awful that it put me off of reading it at all. Why…what does it say?"

For a minute Helgi was afraid that Didier would clamp up and leave, whatever he had found out disturbing him to the point he would rather forget than tell him. Then with a sigh Didier began reading out loud.

"Within this chest I've sealed away the source of the despair I've felt this past decade, the Devil who is robbing me of my life and might with every breath I take. Should anybody find this and read this message I beg of you, leave this Devil Fruit behind so that it may be forgotten and claim no more lives. Not long from now, when I pass on, the pear that I've sealed up inside this chest will transform into the Tat Tat Fruit, the notorious Devil Fruit that claims the lives of those who indulge in it. Should you be unaware of the dreadful tales that fill this Fruit's history, I will gladly destroy that shred of innocence you possess if it means sparing you and the world yet another iteration of its curse.

Through the power of the Tat Tat Fruit a person can make an object or animal sink within themselves, not unlike a bog or a patch of quicksand. These can stay locked away within them indefinitely, but the price it extracts from you will inevitably become too great for you to bear. What it takes from you is your strength, always equal to the weight that you carry. All of which would be easily dealt with by simply not keeping enough on you to be detrimental to your health, were it not that this is the Devil that embodies greed, always hungering for more and never willing to part with what it already has.

Year after year and month after month the devil made me carry ever more, inflicting hellish pains and tearing my body to shreds whenever I would dare to lighten the load. Now as I write this not a day goes by where that devil's demands do not increase.

Writing this letter has drained me of the lion's share of my strength, to the point that I've come to envy my predecessors who were forced to take their sailing vessel within themselves and drowned as a result. I die so that none after me must suffer this death by slowly wasting away, that none need ever be driven to madness and prefer to be torn apart over this fate of mine.

I beg of you, let me be the last,

William Hervig, Marine Commander of the 73rd Branch Base"

For a brief second Helgi was sure that his heart had stopped beating. It was as if an icy cold had descended, robbing him of all feeling and thought and snuffing out his life all at the same time. The words themselves were muted, as if Didier was whispering them from far away, but as much as Helgi would wish to forget them, to pretend that all of this was nothing more than a half-forgotten nightmare they had already burrowed their way in his brain.

At some point he had dropped down on his knees, shaking and hyperventilating. His traitorous mind forcing him to relive the torment he had undergone the night of the storm, the lives he had ruined. And this letter said that that scene would haunt him till his dying day, that he had to choose between perpetuating that hellscape or be forced to slap more and more shackles on himself until his heart gave out?

"Hehehahahaha, what sort of boarshit is this? This has got to be the worst joke I've ever heard in my life. I ate a nasty fruit and all of a sudden I'm a danger to everybody around me? I'm going to die as a feeble, withered husk? Let me wake up from this. Great Sage, please let this be nothing but a dream." Wordlessly Didier knelt beside him, his hand on Helgi's back. That was all it took for the dam to break loose and Helgi's screams and sobs echoed throughout the clearing.

Didier just sat there, drawing small circles on Helgi's back with his hand. This was not what he had in mind when he had snuck away from under his master's nose. He had no idea of how to handle the sobbing child, but he knew that if he left him behind right now something would break within Helgi, something that would never mend itself. He might be too cocky for his own good, but Helgi's a good kid and he didn't deserve any of this. Nobody did.

"Thank you for looking after my son. Can you tell me what happened?" Wide-eyed Didier took in the sight of the new arrival. Tall with a flowing mane of dark hair, the man before him looked like he could snap his spear in half with only two fingers. If it weren't for his patient smile and the compassion in his eyes he might have very well thrown Helgi over his shoulder and run away. The fact that he was naked from the belt up certainly didn't help matters.

"You are his father?" Wordlessly the older man knelt down and started to gently rub his son's head. The sobbing and shaking subsided and as soon as Helgi saw who was before him he inched closer, grabbing his father's arm as if it were all that was keeping him from sinking further into the abyss.

"I don't blame you for being suspicious of me. Helgi has had…a rough couple of weeks to say the least. Don't worry, I don't think you are in any way responsible for his current condition, but if you know anything that could help me support my only child when he needs it most, please tell me. If it were just the two of us I would prostrate myself and beg you if that were what it would take to help my son. Please tell me what you know."

Taking a closer look Didier could now see the family resemblance and seeing the concern in the father's eyes he started talking.

"Me and Helgi sparred and were enjoying a meal afterwards when he showed me a letter he had found next to the Devil Fruit he had eaten. It was a warning letter from the previous wielder of said Fruit, telling of the dangers it brings along with it and how it ended up crippling and killing him. As you can see, Helgi didn't take the news well." Didier whispered, not wanting to saddle Helgi with another panic attack.

"Once again, thank you for being there for him. If it's all right with you I'll take over from here." Picking Helgi up effortlessly the man rose up, his gaze already directed elsewhere. Helgi himself was unconscious, draped over his father like a baby koala.

"Sir, I've only met your son less than two hours ago, but I know him well enough that he needs to be around other people, now more than ever. He needs to understand he shouldn't be, and won't be, shunned by others for his condition. To be honest, I don't believe what that Hervig wrote down, at least the part about the Tat Tat Fruit being an automatic death sentence. Until Helgi believes that himself I won't let him be alone, you can count on me for that."

"Helgi is lucky to have met you and for you to have been there for him when he needed it most. Go back to your home. We'll meet you there tomorrow sometime around noon."

"But you don't know where I live. Hell, you don't even know my name."

"I've tracked a Sea King for over a 150 miles in the middle of the Calm Belt by scent alone. Tomorrow we'll be there by noon. You can introduce yourself then." And then a lazy grin sprung up on his face, the resemblance with Helgi now clear as day.

"I'm Bjorn the Mountain Lion and if you can impress me as much with your spear as you have with your compassion I'll spar with you, alright?"

Bjorn watched Didier pack up and leave after letting the boy check up on Helgi one last time. Then he turned back, picked up the paper that had caused his son so much grief, and disappeared into the dark woods, pointedly not looking at the hunched shadow that was barely making any effort to stay hidden.

"You need not forgive him, but I hope that one day you'll understand that there were only victims that night, Ari." Wordlessly the crippled boy followed.

* * *

The moon had all but completed its nightly journey when Helgi woke up. After a brief moment of panic at the unfamiliar surroundings he got up and went outside, a red glow already peeking out from beyond the horizon. His father was sitting there, relief washing over his face as he saw his son emerge from the cave.

"Your new friend asked me to let you know that he's not going to shun you just because of the danger that Devil Fruit of yours poses to those around you. He was rather insistent about the matter to be honest." Instead of being reassuring, Bjorn's calmness angered Helgi.

"It's going to happen again. I will kill and devour and scar the land over and over and over again until I burst. That must be why they call it Devil Fruits, because to eat it is to become the Devil's plaything." Bjorn didn't so much as blink as his son kept ranting, only stopping when he looked like he was going to pass out again from a lack of oxygen.

"It took me some time to read what this commander Hervig wrote, but I did it and I'll be thanking Sister Giselle sometime later for her splendid teaching skills. And quite frankly, he sounds like the type that would run away the moment things got tough. Didier told me that he didn't believe that there was no way to free you of this curse and I agree with him."

"That's easy for you to say. You haven't felt that hunger, you haven't had to claw your way back out of the edge of madness, only to have it all come crashing down on you again without a second's pause. When he talked about the agony of the devil tearing your body apart I knew exactly what he meant, because I've experienced that pain first hand. And he was not exaggerating when he said that death was preferable to that. Same thing with the weakness you feel when you've been filled to the brim with whatever junk you could get your hands on. If you did, you'd know that this can kill me, that even a tiny slip-up can kill me in the time it would take to finish this sentence."

"Of course it can be dangerous. It has claimed lives, destroyed houses and most importantly it has hurt you. It has injured your self-confidence and that independent spirit of yours. If I were to let my guard down even a tiny slip-up could kill me, whether that slip-up would be a Sea King, a rabid dog or even a loose pebble doesn't matter in the slightest. But have you already forgotten? I'm the Unmarred Mountain Lion, if I set my mind to it no Sea King or storm could keep me from doing what I want. And you, Helgi? In this regard you're the same. In fact I know you will become greater than me. You drive, your ingenuity, even when it comes to raw talent you are so much better than I was at your age." It hurt seeing the sheer genuine belief his father had in him. He had lost everything he ever had in life, rather he had thrown it all away. Whether or not his hand had been forced by the devil he had killed his fellow hunters, damaged the belief that the hunters of South End could protect Jagt Island from the Sea Kings. He mutilated and hurt his best friend in a way he might never recover from. And he was supposed to just what? Grin and walk it off like everything was going to be alright? He was disappointing his father, had earned Ari's hatred and if he wanted to spare others from meeting Nial and Leif's fate he would have to find his own underground cave and stay down there until he died.

"Helgi, I need you to listen to me because I'm only going to say this once. Rather I think that you'll only need to hear it once to understand what I'm trying to say. It's okay to be afraid and to doubt yourself. Whatever you're dealing with, it's old and powerful and malevolent. But it is not a foe that you can kill, that can be lured into one of your traps or be reasoned with. And as hard for me to say it as it is that devil, or at least a piece of it, is now inside of you. It's a part of you, its grip on the world is dependent on you. You've got it backwards, Helgi. You control its fate, not the other way around. Whatever power it may have over you or over your surroundings it only has because you think it should have that power. That devil is only as strong as you believe it to be. And so long as you believe you have to power to resist it, you will and you will triumph. All that devil is, is a slightly more crafty foe. I'm sure

you can craft a trap that can even kill the formless, so chin up. I'll be with you all the way."

As if his old man had planned for it, Helgi watched the sun rise over the horizon illuminating his father's imposing figure.

He couldn't see how he was going win that fight, but now he understood that even if he wanted to become a hermit and wait for death to claim him there would be those who would drag him back. Shaking his head in disbelief Helgi got up and leisurely started to make his way into the forest.

"Trying so hard to sound cool will just end up having the opposite effect, you know? The least you can do after delivering that sermon is to help me figure out the limits of the Tat Tat Fruit."

As soon as he had said that Bjorn had all but teleported next to him, roughly ruffling his hair all the while shamelessly flashing a shit-eating grin at him.

His dad could be pretty cool when he wanted to be. Utterly aggravating and embarrassing to be seen with in public, but cool nonetheless.


End file.
